


the fire is coming

by thequeenofokay



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-08
Updated: 2014-10-26
Packaged: 2018-01-15 00:34:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1284616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequeenofokay/pseuds/thequeenofokay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She uses her 0-8-4 powers in front of two dozen SHIELD agents to save them, and it just spirals from there. SHIELD requests she is turned in. For testing. The team is having none of it.</p><p>// in which Skye has to go on the run, and Ward isn't leaving her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. we should run

**Author's Note:**

> \+ this was partly inspired by a little bit of DrawnToDarkness's [Five Times Ward Brought Skye Flowers](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1272637).
> 
> \+ i'm not very good at multichapter, so expect updates to be slow. i have no idea where this is actually going, so i'm definitely open to suggestions.
> 
> \+ title (and probably all chapter titles) from run by daughter. which i listened to on repeat while writing this.
> 
> \+ unbetad bc i am still a lazy arse. all mistake are my own, and feel free to point them out.

She has no other choice. She uses her 0-8-4 powers in front of two dozen SHIELD agents to save them, and it just spirals from there. SHIELD doesn’t like her to begin with. But a person as an 0-8-4? They request that she is immediately turned in. For testing.

The team is having none of it. Ward, Jemma and Fitz are all a little shocked at first to learn of her status, but they are nothing if not protective of her. For that, she is eternally grateful. She half-expected them to abandon her like everyone else in her life has before.

Which isn’t to say that Fitz and Simmons aren’t a little… wary. And curious. Skye can tell they are trying their best not to ask for blood samples. Ward is just very quiet.

Coulson spends a good hour in his office with May, shouting at the agents on the other end of the line.

Skye hides in her room and tries not to cry. She hugs her knees to her chest. If she holds on tight enough maybe she can keep herself together.

The shouting has stopped. There is a knock on her door. “Mmm,” she replies, her throat too tight to form real words.

Ward opens it, looking worried. “Come on,” he tells her. “Coulson wants to speak with us all.”

They gather round the Holotable like it is any normal briefing. Skye wishes it was. But no matter how hard she tries, it isn’t.

Coulson’s jaw is set in anger. Skye doesn’t remember the last time she saw him like this. “SHIELD is still requesting we turn you in for testing.”

Skye wants to be sick. “I… yeah,” she says, pressing her eyes closed. “Okay.”

“We won’t be doing that.” May’s expression is blank and her words short, but Skye thinks that there is an insulted looks in the woman’s eyes. But maybe she’s imagining it.

Skye is confused. “Are you going to let me go? Won’t you get into trouble?”

Coulson laughs humorlessly. “We’ll be fine.”

Skye nods. She doesn’t want to leave the team behind. It’s hardly been a year, but there is no doubt that it has been the best year of her life so far. She’s going to hate being on her own again. Before the team she didn’t know what it was like to rely on anyone, to trust anyone; now she has forgotten how to be alone. “So what now?” she asks.

“We feel it will be easiest to drop you somewhere on our route to the Hub. If we landed there would be a record of it,” Coulson says. “You only have about an hour until you’ll have to go.” He looks at her for a second, the full weight of his words hitting them all. “I’m sorry,” he says, and there is something horrible, terribly sad in his voice.

“Yeah.” Skye nods again. She’s pretty sure if she says anything else her voice will break. SHe doesn’t want her team’s last memory of her to be her in tears.

“Agent Ward will be accompanying you,” Coulson adds.

Skye’s head jerks up. “What?” she asks.

“We can’t leave you on your own,” Coulson tells her softly. “As accomplished as you might be, you can’t outrun the full might of SHIELD on your own.”

“No.” Skye shakes her head, taking a step back, her attention going to the man in question. “No, I can’t ask that of you. It’s bad enough that I’m getting you all in trouble, I can’t ask you to throw away your life too.”

“I’m responsible for you,” he tells her, like it’s only him being sensible, like he isn’t going to ruin his life for her. “I’m your SO. I need to make sure you’re protected.” Skye feels like she might hear a hint of guilt in his voice for a certain near-death related incident that befell her.

“Someone needs to go with you,” May puts in before she can protest. “Agent Ward is the best choice. You need to be with someone prepped for combat, and I need to stay here to negotiate your freedom with Coulson.” May looks a little sorry to be saying it. Like she would have liked to be the one to go.

Skye splutters a little, unsure of how to respond. They’re not going to take no for an answer. She squeezes her eyes shut, trying to clear her head. “Okay,” she says. “Fine. So in half an hour Ward and I jump out this plane.”

Half an hour passes far too quickly. She stands in the cargo bay, clutching Jemma tight. “It’s fine,” she tries to assure the scientist (even though it really isn’t). “I’ll be fine. I’ll see you again. This will all get sorted out.”

Simmons squeaks sadly, tears welling in her eyes, and pulls Fitz into the hug with them. Skye then gets a quick, chaste (but really moving) hug from May, and kind of a bear hug from a slightly teary Coulson. “We’ll fix this,” he assures her. Skye would love to say that she is convinced, but she’s known too many broken promises in her short lifetime.

The wind rushes at them as the bay opens up to reveal blue sky and a long fall. She straps herself to Ward (and notes, despite the circumstances, that they are incredibly close and she can feel his breath in her hair). With one last look, they drop.

 


	2. you might understand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ i'm kinda stunned and super pleased with the response to this, so thanks guys!
> 
> \+ chapter title from "for you" by angus and julia stone (it fits so well with my ward headcanons k. i feel like i might just use the chapter titles to makes a mixtape.)

The first thing Skye notices after she picks herself up off the ground is the heat. A dry, hot wall that tickles her throat. She doesn’t really notice much else for a minute, because the sun is blinding her. She shades her eyes with her hand and sees desert. “Where are we?” she asks.

“New Mexico,” Ward says. Then he gets a bit more frowny than usual. “Roughly.”

“What do you mean _roughly_?” Skye folds her arms, then regrets it, because the sun is in her eyes again. She forgot to pack sunglasses into her one measly little rucksack.

“I can’t check the GPS,” he tells her. “It could be tracked.”

Skye huffs. “So which way are we heading?” she asks, squinting into the distance.

“Over there.” He’s already spotted the road. Of course he has.

It’s further away than it looks. Skye sips slowly at her SHIELD own-brand water, trying to savour it (which feels a little ironic). It’s been a horrid, exhausting day already. She wants to lie down, but she doesn’t think Ward would take it well if she just stopped and took a nap on the roadside.

He flags down a car when one finally passes, and asks where they are. The driver gives them an odd look (Skye can’t blame him), but tells them that they’re about a half hour drive from the nearest town.

He doesn’t offer them a lift.

The walk takes three hours. Mostly they are silent. Speech is way too much effort. Occasionally, Skye manages to whine something like, “How long has it been?” or “How much further?” but that’s as good as it gets. It prompts no heart to hearts or deep life stories.

They themselves book into the first motel they come to.

There’s only one bed, but Skye is beyond caring. Caring is a three hour walk and a skydive away. She lies face down with her nose pressed into the weird-smelling pillow and pats the space beside her. Ward doesn’t say anything, but she can tell he’s vaguely uncomfortable when he sits down, back against the wall.

She rolls over to look up at him. “What next?” she asks, feeling slightly readier to face the discussion now that she’s hydrated and a little more relaxed.

“We need to get to New York.” He doesn’t sound particularly happy about it.

Neither is she. “New York?” she repeats incredulously. “Are you going for the furthest away place with the biggest SHIELD presence that you can think of?”

“Coulson suggested it. We know people there. They can help us,” he says. Skye has a suspicion that she knows who he’s talking about it. She’s way too tired to ask.

“You do know New York must be, like, at least thirty hours from here, right? Straight. In a car,” she says instead. “And in case you hadn’t noticed,” she adds, letting sarcasm drip into her voice, “we have no car. I will not be walking across the country. I would rather be a lab rat.” She regrets saying the words as soon as they leave her mouth and cringes at herself. There’s nothing she wouldn’t do to avoid being cooped up in a SHIELD testing facility for the rest of her life.

Ward looks tired. “I know,” he says. “But Coulson hasn’t given us enough money to afford a car. And if I use any cards we’ll be tracked.”  Skye feels like SHIELD could track them if they breathe too loud.

“Easy.” She turns over onto her back, looking up at the yellowing ceiling. “I’ve been able to hotwire a car since I was nine. And I can use my phone to hack newer locks - RKS and all that.” She’s going to go on, but he looks like he’s glazing over.

The prospect of her stealing a car doesn’t look like it particularly excites him. “Skye,” he begins, “I don’t want you to…”

She scoffs. “Trying to protect me, Agent Ward?” she coos. “How do you think I got my van? Did you think I bought it?” He doesn’t look shocked, so the answer is probably no, he didn’t. She remembers how little he trusted her when they first met. “On the subject of illegal activity, by the way, we’re going to need to hit an internet cafe or something.”

“Why?” he asks.

“So I can unperson us,” she explains. “It’ll be safer. I can remove all traces of us from the internet, and SHIELD will have nothing to go on. We’ll basically not exist.” She twists her head sideways to look up at Ward. He looks a bit sad, she thinks. She realises that being erased maybe is a bit of a scary thought. “Sorry,” she says immediately. “I mean, I don’t have to. I just thought -”

“You’re right,” he says. “You should.”

“You sure?” Skye asks.

He nods. “Yes.” Skye waits for him to say more. It’s a long wait. He’s never been great with words. “It’s just…” He ends there, doesn’t say any more, but Skye feels she knows him well enough to fill in the blanks. He’s leaving behind his life. He’s throwing away his pledge to SHIELD for her. He’s leaving behind the family they had made. Jemma and Leo and May and Coulson. And his real family too - his grandmother and his brother. He has a real family that he’s not going to be able to contact again. Ever, maybe. She doesn’t know what SHIELD will say happened to him.

She crawls up onto her knees. She’s basically sitting on him, she realises. “I’m really sorry, Ward. I never meant for this to happen.”

“I know.” The look he gives her is soft. She remembers the first time she saw that look. _Battleship_. Her chest feels weird. And not just the sick feeling that she’s had all day. Something else. “It isn’t your fault. SHIELD has no right to try and take you in. This isn’t what I signed up for. I signed up to protect people. That’s what I’m doing.”

She smiles, feeling a bit gooey inside. “Thanks,” she whispers. He gives her a rare smile.

With a heavy sigh, she pulls herself off the bed and into the bathroom before she falls asleep right there, still in the clothes she walked across the desert in. She cleans herself off, scrubbing the dust from her pores until her skin is pink.

She comes out in her underwear, and doesn’t miss Ward’s look. “I had no space for pyjamas,” she excuses herself. She’s not usually this self-conscious, but she thinks she might be blushing. She hurries to the bed, tucking herself under the covers, facing towards the wall and away from him.

She feels him get up and go to the bathroom. By the time he returns she is almost asleep. She thinks she hears him say something, but she can’t make out the words. Probably _don’t snore_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ yay for unreliable narrators who don't listen when they really should.
> 
> \+ also i know i'm not being sly about the upcoming cameos.
> 
> \+ next chapter: road trip time!


	3. on my knees and out of luck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ chapter title is mumford & sons "after the storm" (bc i suck for reasons that will become apparent)
> 
> \+ sorry the update took a while. also i so should have been doing homework while i was writing this.
> 
> \+ anyway idek what i'm doing or where i'm going with this. but i feel it will get angsty in a couple of chapters. good luck.

Skye wakes once in the night to find herself snuggled against Ward’s side. In daylight she would probably jump away, but he’s comfortable and she’s still half asleep so she can’t think clearly. Anyway, jumping away isn’t really a viable option as he’s got his arm around her waist.

She wakes again and he’s gone. She can hear the shower running. She rolls over and groans. And groans a bit more. Too bright.

He wanders out with a towel around his waist. “Did you say something?” he asks.

Skye wishes he wouldn’t do the whole shirtless thing. It’s a bit distracting. “No,” she moans, finally dragging herself out of the bed.

“Get ready quickly,” he tells her. “We need to be on the road within the hour, and we still need to find access to a computer so you can do your… computer thing.”

An hour is a little ambitious, considering it takes Skye most of that to get dressed and for them to find breakfast.

They settle into the town’s one internet cafe, which has computers that don’t look very this century. Skye takes a bite out of her muffin and starts typing. Ward pretty obviously has not a clue what she’s doing from the glazed look he gets on his face, but thankfully he doesn’t ask questions.

The little progress that pops up on screen as she erases herself for the second time in her life is a little ominous. Ward’s is next.

“You ready?” she asks him. He nods a little uncertainly, and she hits the enter key anyway.

“Okay,” she says, when it’s done. “I’m nearly done. I just want to try and get onto SHIELD’s servers.”It takes her a few minutes of furious typing, but she gets it up.

She knew she was wanted, but she didn’t quite expect the first thing she’d see on the SHIELD alert feed to be her own face.

“That picture is awful,” she jokes. Underneath it is: _“Skye. Wanted for questioning. Warning - dangerous.”_

Beneath her own picture is Ward. His reads: _“Grant Ward. Wanted for aiding the escape of a fugitive. Warning - former SHIELD agent, dangerous.”_

He doesn’t say anything, so Skye feels the need to make another terrible joke. “Bet you never thought you’d see that,” she quips. “And look at us, both dangerous. You taught me well.” She knows that in reality, SHIELD considers her dangerous because of her powers.

“No,” Ward says. “I didn’t.”

There’s something in his voice that makes Skye decide this was a terrible, awful idea.

“Okay,” she says quickly. “SHIELD’s too secure for me to be able to do anything from here, so we can go. Let’s go.” Skye closes everything with a click and snaps the computer off. She stands up to fast and knocks over her chair. It clatters to the floor, but it’s only them and the waitress in the place, and she’s too busy on her phone.

Skye practically runs from the place. It’s suddenly all feeling a bit much. She needs a distraction. Stealing a car should do nicely.

She takes a deep breath and turns to Ward. “Car. What are we looking for?”

“Nothing new,” Ward says. “They might have GPS trackers.” They wander along the quiet street. Skye peers down side streets, looking for something suitable.

“How about that?” she asks, turning off the main road. It’s an old pale green estate car that she could steal in her sleep, but looks sturdy and reliable enough to make the drive to New York comfortably.

Waard looks it over. “Sure.”

He’s hardly got the word out before Skye’s got the door open. He stands watch while she works, and within the minute the engine starts. “I’m out of practise,” she tells him, looking up. He motions for her to move over, and she jumps across to the passenger seat.

They set off. Skye doesn’t sit still for ten seconds. She starts scrabbling around the glove compartment, pulling CDs out onto her lap.

“What do you want, Ward? Britney Spears or the Best Folk Rock of 2009. You choose.”

Ward doesn’t look thrilled with either choice. “Not Britney Spears,” he says.

“Folk Rock 2009 it is then.” She pops it in.

She doesn’t know any of the words, but that doesn’t stop her trying to sing along regardless. And by what feels like the fiftieth time through the CD, she knows all the words, and has listened to more Mumford and Sons than most people do in a lifetime.

“Please turn it off,” Ward asks, for what also feels like the fiftieth time.

“No,” Skye whines back, pouting. “I like it.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Anyway, would you rather Britney? Or, I think I found the Spice Girls somewhere.”

“This is fine.”

Skye snickers. “I’m hungry,” she decides, because she can see a little town coming up. ‘Little town’ being a Taco Bell and a few houses

Ward sighs in exasperation, but she can tell he isn’t serious. He turns into the car park of the Taco Bell. Skye bounces round the place like a five year old, and orders enough to feed a dozen people. Ward is less enthusiastic about the grimy fast food joint. Such a robot.

When they get back to the car she makes him let her drive. She piles all her food onto his lap, and eats with one hand, the other on the steering wheel.

“Skye!” Ward yelps at her. “Watch the road.”

“Hmm?” Skye turns away from him to look back out the window.

“How did you ever get your license?”

Skye laughs. “Oh, yeah. No, I didn’t do that.”

“You don’t have a license?” he repeats. “Who taught you to drive?”

“Miles,” Skye says smoothly. “He taught me all these cool hacks that you can do as well. With traffic lights. You wanna demo?” She turns away from the road again to pull out her phone.

“No. No, I really don’t.” He looks somewhere between panicked and uncomfortable. She’s not sure if it’s her driving or something else. “Please let me drive.”

“Nope.” She pops the _p_ , and grins at him. “How much further, by the way?”

Ward checks the map he has spread out on the dashboard. “Twenty hours or so still.”

Skye moans and bangs her head against the steering wheel. She can see Ward tensing out of the corner of her eyes, so she peeks back up at the road. “No,” she complains. “It has to be closer than that. We’ve been driving since forever.”

Ward shrugs. “Do you want to sleep?” he asks.

Skye wants to say no, because she knows he’s just trying to get her to stop driving, but she is tired. She nods reluctantly and pulls the car over to the side of the road. She shimmies across the middle of the car, because getting out and walking round would be too much effort. Ward, unfortunately, hasn’t got round to moving yet, so she ends up on top of him. She can feel his breath on her neck. She lifts herself  up (after a moment too long) so that he can move over to the driver’s seat.

Once they’re on the road again she pulls a blanket from the back and snuggles down into her seat. It’s dark outside, and there are no streetlights on this empty stretch of road. Through half-closed eyes she can see Ward giving her a fond look, and then she closes them completely.

When she wakes again it’s light, and they’ve stopped outside a coffee shop. She guesses Ward must be inside, because he’s gone.

She checks the time. Eleven. Ward must have been awake for more than twenty-four hours now.

She makes him let her drive when he gets back. He agrees, if reluctantly.

She manages not to crash for the whole day. As evening draws in Ward insists he drives again.

“We’re only, like, an hour out,” Skye complains. “I’m pretty sure I can manage from here.”

“No,” Ward tells her. “I’ve seen how badly you drive when you’re the only car in sight. You’re not driving through New York City.”

She relents and swaps with him. “So,” she says. “We’re not actually here to pay the Avengers a visit, are we?” she asks. “I mean, people you know in New York. And Coulson was their babysitter until he got -” She mimes being stabbed in the chest.

Ward smiles at her. “Only two of them,” he says.

Skye’s eyes light up. “Seriously? We’re actually going to see the Avengers? I’m be able to get into Stark Tower and not get chucked out again?”

He looks like he might address that, then decides against it. “Yes. Coulson was the handler of Agents Barton and Romanoff before the Avengers Initiative, and I’ve worked with them from time to time.”

“You were buddies with Black Widow?” Skye yelps, jumping in her seat.

Ward sighs. “I know her.”

“Were you BFFs?” Skye pokes him and grins. He doesn’t answer, so she persists in her teasing. “Do you Skype with Black Widow at the weekends?”

“No,” Ward says firmly. “I do not Skype with Agent Romanoff. She’s far too busy.”

Skye has a whole list of questions she wants to ask, but she doesn’t get the chance as Ward turns into the carpark below Stark Tower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ i really like Taco Bell okay. we don't have them here. but my headcanon is that Skye never got to go when she was in the foster system and then Miles took her one time bc he was too skint for real restaurants but Skye thought it was pretty much heaven.
> 
> \+ next time: skye totally fangirls over black widow.
> 
> \+ also next time: ward can't believe skye is embarrassing him in front of his friends.


	4. i'll be a thorn in your side, 'til you die

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ sorry this took ages. it isn't one of my better chapters, either, but i just wanted to get it done.
> 
> \+ i'm also not sure how this fits into canon, what with the events of the winter soldier. it also assumes clint and natasha know coulson isn't dead.
> 
> \+ chapter title "we sink" by chvrches

Black Widow meets them in the lobby of Stark Tower. She has her arms folded and her lips pursed, but she offers a small smile at the sight of them. She’s dressed casually, in jeans and a fitted burgundy t-shirt.

Oh, if only she could tell her younger self about this.

“Come upstairs,” she says, and turns to the elevator behind her. She holds the doors silently for them and presses a floor number. It rises silently to the second to top floor, and through the whole journey Skye stands in the corner and tries not to freak out over _Black Widow_.

The doors open out onto an open plan living room and kitchen. It’s empty. As soon as they are inside, Black Widow ( _the_ Black Widow) turns to Ward (the _Robot_ ) and gives him a friendly hug. “It’s good to see you,” she says, then grimaces. “Though I wish the circumstances were better.” She turns. “You must be Skye,” she says. Skye makes a strangled squeak. “Ward’s told me so much about you.”

The opportunity to make fun of Ward suddenly lets Skye regain the power of speech. “Oh my God!” she laughs. “You talk about me to _Black Widow_! Does that mean you _do_  Skype?”

The woman in question lets out a short breath that sounds like a laugh. “Please,” she tells Skye, “call me Natasha.”

Skye grins and pokes Ward in the arm. “I get to call her Natasha,” she stage whispers.

Ward frowns at her disapprovingly. Skye feels tugged back to reality. Right. They’re on the run.

Natasha’s features also become more serious. “Come sit down,” she says, walking over to the sofa. “I’ve told JARVIS - Stark’s computer - not to keep any record of your being here.” She pauses, watching Skye and Ward as they sit down opposite her. Skye has her back against the arm of the sofa and her legs stretched over Ward’s lap. Being able to touch him relaxes her a little bit. It reminds her she isn’t alone.

“Thanks,” Ward says. “Though SHEILD would be stupid to try and get into Stark’s systems.”

Natasha nods in agreement. “You’ll be safe here for a few hours, but I’ve looked at the order of operations, and this place is on the list.”

“So we don’t have long.” Ward looks tired.

“No. And we’ve a lot to sort out before then.” Natasha pushes herself off the couch again. She rummages in a drawer for a minute, muttering something about _Clint messing up everything_. She produces a little phone and hands it to Ward, sitting back down. “I’ll keep an eye on SHIELD, make sure to contact you if they get close. They won’t be able to tap that, it’s on a secure line.” She looks at both of them, eyes dark. “You know what you have to do?”

Skye knows the question isn’t really for her. Ward nods. “Go dark,” he answers. “Isolated locations for at least six months. Move every month. Don’t stop for at least two years. After that urban locations and extended stays become less of a risk.”

“Don’t use past identities. Blend in. Don’t get yourself noticed,” Natasha finishes. Skye feels like they are reciting from some bit of training she must have missed. _What to do when the bosses decides they want you dead_. It’s a bit scary, honestly.

“We’ll go north first, then. Head across the border,” Ward says. Skye feels a little left out of the conversation, like a child sitting with the grown-ups while they speak about things she doesn’t really understand.

Natasha nods. “We can give you a car, get you in touch with someone for identities. You’ll probably want to get overseas soon,” she says.

“Thank you,” Skye says, speaking for the first time in a while.

“No problem.” Her smile is a little sad. “We’ll stay in touch with Coulson, keep you updated. This will all get sorted out, I’m sure of it.” To hear Black Widow say it is comforting to Skye, she has to admit.

Natasha checks the clock on the wall. “Did you manage to pack much?” she asks, but she looks at their meagre bags and decides for herself. “I’ll get you something.” She leaves the room. She’s a few minutes, and Skye can hear shuffling. She leans back against the sofa. Ward must sense her worry, because he gives her leg a reassuring squeeze. She smiles in return.

Natasha returns. In tow behind her is _Hawkeye_. _The_  Hawkeye. And his arms look just as good as they do in the pictures, even if he’s wearing what look like pyjamas instead of his suit. He’s carrying two big rucksacks full of stuff.

“I think I can sacrifice these for you two,” Natasha says. She smiles, fondly, and Skye is hit with a wave of how weird it is that her Robot is bros with two of the Avengers. And that he _forgot to mention it_.

“I’ll make it up to you,” Ward replies. It’s super weird, Skye decides. Ward tries to get up, and she is forced to move her legs. She feels suddenly cold.

She stands up to, taking one of the rucksacks. Hawkeye (Skye reminds himself that it isn’t his real name) gives her half a smile. “You got that?” he asks her.

She grins. “Yeah. I think so.” She mentally curses the stupid shake in her voice.

“I’m Clint.” He holds out a hand, and Skye shakes it.

“I know,” Skye says. “I mean. I’ve seen your pictures. In the newspaper.”

“You’re Skye?”

Skye nods, too enthusiastically. She probably looks like some stupid bobblehead.

“Nice to meet you, Skye.” He’s kinda charming, in a rough sort of way.

Natasha rolls her eyes. “Stop,” she says, voice lower than before. “Go make coffee.” She elbows him towards the kitchen area. It’s one of those moments when Skye feels like she is intruding on something private. Ward looks a little relieved that Clint has stopped talking to her though, Skye notes. “You two will need to get going soon,” she says. She hands Ward a set of keys. “There’s no way SHIELD should be able to trace it, so you shouldn’t need to change it again. If anything does come up, I’ll call you,” she says. “Clint,” she calls to the kitchen, and her partner looks up. “Make our guests coffee to go.

They gather their things and head for the elevator. Skye feels vaguely sick at the thought of leaving this place. It has a comforting nature about it.

“You’ll be okay,” Natasha assures them. Clint hands them coffee in flasks. He still looks not entirely fully awake (despite it being late evening).

“Thanks,” Skye says again, and she means it. Ward nods in agreement.

They steps back into the elevator, and the doors slide silently closed. Skye hugs herself and glances up at Ward.

She takes a sip from her flask and grimaces.

Hawkeye makes terrible coffee.


	5. winners by mistake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ look finally an update yay! no but sorry it took so long, i've just had no idea what to do with this after all the shit that went down in canon, and i didn't know whether or not to incorporate in the hydra twist. i think i've decided though.
> 
> \+ chapter title from "sinners" by lauren aquilina.

Skye lies back against the lumpy sofa. She closes her eyes and curls her legs up to her chest, hoping she might manage to get in a quick nap before Ward makes her get ready.

She has no such luck.

“Skye.” The bedroom door of their Canadian safe house slams. She can hear Ward coming into the living room and dumping down their bags. She doesn’t open her eyes. “Skye,” he says again, shaking her shoulder gently.

She finally opens one eye, painfully slowly, then the other. “Mmm?” she asks.

“We need to go in ten minutes. The first possible flight leaves in under two hours, and the airport is forty minutes drive away,” he says. He’s given her some really long winded explanation about the fact that he’d booked about a dozen different tickets so that if SHIELD worked out it was them, they wouldn’t know which plane they were on.

Rubbing her eyes, Skye sits up. The thought of a longhaul flight on a plane that isn’t the BUS isn’t appealing. “Give me two seconds,” she says, stretching and arching her back, then heading for the kitchen.

Ward’s voice stops her. “Is that my shirt?” he asks.

She turns, looking down at her top with mock surprise. “Yes,” she says. “It does seem to be.”

“Why do you have it?” he asks.

“I wanted something comfortable to wear,” she retorts. “Why? Do you want it back? Because you’ll have to take it from me,” she teases. And then realises she has made a terrible mistake, because as it turns out, it’s not the best thing to say to someone who is obviously attracted to you. In a decidedly sexual way.

Ward doesn’t say anything, just stands there looking like a bit of an idiot, so Skye practically runs from the room.

It might be that with just the two of them for the past few weeks they’ve got closer, or it might be that’s she’s only just started noticing it, but she doesn’t feel like he’s even trying to keep his emotions in check any more.

Which would be great. Like, _congratulations, Robot, you’ve had a programming upgrade!_

But also they share a bed more often than not. And she makes a lot of jokes like that. Which has led to some seriously awkward moments.

The drive to the airport goes off without a hitch. They wait in Starbucks until the very last minute before Ward decides that they’ll get the flight to Heathrow, so Skye is pretty sure that they knocked over a couple of people as they pushed through security.

They make it onto the plane with maybe twenty seconds to spare.

Just as Ward is about to switch off the phone from Natasha, a text blips in. Ward frowns.

“What?” Skye asks immediately.

He passes her the phone.

_SHIELD waiting at LHR, CDG & AMS._

“So they’re going to catch us?” she asks, trying not to panic. They can’t have come this far to get caught now.

Ward shakes his head. “It’ll be fine,” he says. “We’ve still got an eight hour flight to come up with a plan.”

He gives her hand a reassuring pat (and it’s a weird enough thing for him to do that she has to calm down to analyse it).

She tries to sleep on the flight, she really does. She snuggles up in her airline-issue grey blanket with her feet on the seat and her head on her SO’s (firm) shoulder. It doesn’t work, though (even when he thinks she’s drifted off and starts _stroking her hair_ ), so she ends up watching Beauty and the Beast.

With an hour to go, he taps her on the shoulder.

She takes off her earphones. “Hmm?”

“Skye,” he says, voice low. “There’s two Sky Marshals at the back of this flight, yes?”

She looks around, sees the, panics just a little, and nods.

“They’re not here for us - we’re not really their job,” he tells her. “They’re really here for counterterrorism, since there’s no diplomats on this flight.”

She nods again.

“We needs their uniforms,” he finishes.

She blinks at him. “Okay?”

“Which means incapacitating them without being detected.”

Skye’s eyes light up. “I can do that,” she says, and grabs her phone from her bag. She’s not used it to call anyone in weeks now, but she can still perform basic hacks on it.

At the back of the plane, the marshals’ radios buzz. The two head further back to answer them, and Ward stands up. “Give me three minutes, then follow,” he tells her. She nods.

She counts down, stands up, and heads after him. He’s hardly even out of breath, the two Sky Marshals are no where to be seen (though there is a food storage locker slightly open), and he’s holding up two uniforms.

“I’m not going to talk about how you must have just stripped two guys,” she decides, taking the uniform and heading for the toilets.

It’s a bit big for her. She has to roll up the sleeves, hold it tight at the back with a hair bobble, and stuff the extra length at the bottom into her boots.

Ward’s is the opposite. The shirt is a little too tight. Not that it looks bad. Whatever.

They head back to their seats, and soon Skye can see the outskirts of London stretching below them. She’s tapping her hand nervously against her knee, and Ward is staring at said hand.

“Do you think this is going to work?” she asks him.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “We’ll work it out, though.” He smiles, one of those really lovely rare genuine ones, and she feels a bit better.

“SHIELD will be waiting at the gate, right?” she asks.

He nods, slowly. “There will be agents throughout the airport, but they’ll be most concentrated at the gate itself, yes.”

“So,” Skye says, grabbing her phone again, her eyes lighting up, “what if I changed the gate, at the last minute possible? Could I do that?”

“That could work.”

Skye scoffs. “Could work? Please.” She smirks at him, fingers working on the screen. “How long should I leave it?”

“Give it a minutes,” he says. Skye can see the airport now, from the window. Her finger hovers over the button. “Go.”

She clicks, watches as their arrival gate changes.

They touch down a few minutes later. They leave the plane without incident, and, dressed as Sky Marshals no one questions them. There’s no one at the gate, and Skye breathes a sigh of relief.

“We need to get out as quickly as we can,” Ward says.

“No kidding.”

He frowns at her. “There will probably be a team waiting at immigration,” he says. “Hopefully we’ll be able to skip them in these.”

They do: the SHIELD team are focused on the line on passengers, not staff. They make it all the way into arrivals before they see a couple of SHIELD agents, coming almost straight at them.

Ward looks like he’s panicking for a second. “Kiss me,” he says suddenly.

Skye splutters. “What now?”

She can’t answer, though, because his hand is on the back of her neck, pulling her to him. And then one hand is on the small of her back, too, and this is _way_ too much tongue for any normal first kiss.

When they break apart she’s more than a little breathless. “What the…?”

“Public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable,” he says. He has a slightly dazed look in his eyes. And then he just walks towards the exit, leaving her to run after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ just in case you don't know and do care: LHR, CDG and AMS are airport codes for London Heathrow, Charles de Gaulle in Paris, and Amsterdam Airport Schiphol.
> 
> \+ i feel like i should point out, since my dad's a pilot, that _literally none of this chapter works_. i have taken so many creative liberties i'm sorry. but all the ways they use to get around SHIELD would spectacularly fail. also here's hoping the nsa or gchq isn't monitoring me, bc i sent a lot of texts to my sister along the lines if "HOW DO YOU ESCAPE THE POLICE AT AN AIRPORT HELP" ;)


	6. our eyes glowing like the city lights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ i hadn't really realised how long it's been since i posted the last chapter of this, i'm so sorry! especially since i've actually had it written out since june (the dark days when my laptop died), i just never got around to typing it up. anyway, the next (and final) two chapters are also written and i'll hopefully get them typed up within the next week!
> 
> \+ also warning bc this is getting disgustingly fluffy ugh.
> 
> \+ chapter title from "long way down" by tom odell.

Skye is quiet until she can't take it any more. She waits until they've picked up a hire car and they're out on the motorway before she's squirming in her seat and just _has_ to get it out.

'So,' she says. 'Can we… talk about that?'

'Hmm?' Ward keeps his eyes on the road. Skye would like to think it's just good driving, but she knows him better that that. He's avoiding looking at her.

'That kiss was… quite something,' she says. 'And I feel like it's something we should talk about, seeing as we're stuck together and all.'

She doesn't miss the panicked look that crosses his face. 'No,' he says quickly, and then, more calmly, 'I mean, no. It doesn't mean anything.'

Skye laughs, and quickly stuffs her sleeve in her mouth to stop herself.

'What?' Ward looks at her finally, obviously confused as to what he's done.

She shakes her head, trying to compose herself. 'Ward,' she says. 'That was _not_ a fake kiss, okay?'

Ward looks uncomfortable. He goes back to staring ahead, staying quiet for too long, but Skye waits patiently, tapping her finger against the window.

'Look,' he sighs. 'You're right. I...' He trails off again, and Skye doesn't know how much longer she can go before the anticipation kills her.

'Which way?' he asks.

She frowns. 'What?'

'Up north, or down to France?'

'Down,' Skye says. She waits for him to carry on, and when he doesn't prompts him with, 'You were saying?'

He holds up a finger from the steering wheel. 'Could you give me a minute?' he asks.

Skye nods, turning to the window. 'Sure.'

His "minute" stretches and stretches until Skye wonders if he's actually doing this to hurt her.

She sighs dramatically, giving him an exasperated look.

'Okay,' he says. 'Fine. Look, Skye… I care about you,' he says slowly. 'In a way I don't think I've cared about anyone before. But I'm too… closed off. It's the way I was brought up and the way I was trained. But you…' He pauses again, and she doesn't push it. He's looking at her with an expression that's stupidly soft and makes her feel disgustingly warm inside.

'With you it's different,' he says. 'You make me want to be better. To learn how to… feel?'

It's maybe the stupidest, soppiest thing anyone has ever said to her, but that's _good_. No one has ever been willing to sound like an emotional, sentimental idiot for her before. And now _he is._

'I'm pretty sure you're already feeling, robot,' she says, leaning over to poke him above his heart, and gives her a fond little smile.

She takes a deep breath. Her turn. Whatever he might think about being closed off, she's never exactly been the best at expressing her real emotions either.

'I care about you too,' she says. 'Like, a lot. You're good and honesty, and you genuinely care about _me_. And I'm not used to that. But I like it.'

She looks up at him, expecting him to still be smiling, but his expression has gone dark.

'Skye,' he whispers. He's gripping the wheel too tightly and not looking at her. 'No. No, I'm not a good man. It's my _job_ to be dishonest. I've done terrible things.' Skye opens her mouth to protest, but Ward shakes his head. He turns the car down towards a service station. 'Could we stop for a minute?' he asks. 'I just need some air.' He pulls up in the car park. 'Let's go for a walk.'

There isn't really anywhere _to_ walk. It's getting cold as dusk draws in, plus there's motorway on one side of them and the other is blocked of, so they head into the services.

There's a covered walkway that stretches across the road, connecting one side of the services to the other. The sides are completely glass, so when they sit they can the cars speeding by below. It's quiet - noise from the rest of the building doesn't make it up and no one disturbs them by passing.

'You okay?' Skye asks, when the silence has, yet again, stretched too long for her liking.

'Skye,' he sighs (it strikes her how many times he says it - more than necessary). 'I'm not a good man.'

She frowns. 'Yes,' she says. 'You are. You're maybe the best I know. I can't think of anyone else who would give up _everything_ and go on the run with me.'

'I've done _terrible things_ ,' he repeats. 'I've killed people. And-' He stops, stares down at the traffic below for a minute. 'My brother,' he says. 'I told you he hit us, but he was worse than that. He made _me_ do it.' Ward's voice is getting quieter and quieter, and Skye takes his hand, rubbing her thumb across the back.

'And I did.' Ward stares at their hands. 'I did it. Because I was weak.' He looks at her, and there's something in his eyes, like he's waiting for her hatred. 'I'm not good, Skye. I'm not honest.'

Anger wells up in her stomach. Not at him, but at the _universe_ , for giving them both such shitty lives up to this point, and for making him grow up in _hell._

'Stop it,' she says. 'I don't care if what you did back then wasn't saintly. You did the best you could, right?'

Hesitantly, he nods.

'And,' she carries on, 'that's not who you are any more. You're not some scared kid. You _protect_ people. You protect me. So it doesn't matter what happened to you in the past. Just like you don't care that every now and then I, you know-' she wiggles her fingers and gives him a small smile '- go all 0-8-4 and blast people.'

He gives her a long, searching look, like he's trying to tell if she's bluffing. She holds her expression in one that she hopes is genuine, comforting.

Eventually, he nods.

'But,' he says, 'now isn't a good time to start anything. We've got no escape from each other. We could end up hating each other.

Skye rolls her eyes. 'It's _never_ a good time. Now is as good a bad time as any,' she says. 'Besides, most agents would hardly be able to see each other. And like you said, you won't be able to escape from me.' She grins wickedly and nudges his shoulder until he starts to smile.

'Fine,' he says. 'I guess you're right.'

'Wow,' she says, sarcastic. 'Loving the enthusiasm. You really wanna be with me, huh?'

'Yeah.' He loops an arm round her waist to pull her close. 'I do.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ in case anyone is interested, that is a real motorway services. i've been there. buuuut it's in the wrong place bc it's actually outside newcastle. not south of london. so.


	7. my heart ticking like a bomb in a birdcage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ this is the last _real_ chapter! next up there's an epilogue, and then we're done. for good. forever.
> 
> \+ again this was actually written months ago, i'm just terrible and lazy and sorry.
> 
> \+ title from "what i wouldn't do" by a fine frenzy.

It's been a little more than three years, and the official search for them was called off nearly a year and a half ago. Natasha's updates only report people who bare little resemblance to them occasionally being called in by agents who vaguely remember them from Wanteds. Otherwise, she sends pictures of food, selfies with the Avengers and stories from missions, told mostly through emoticons.

They've slowed down. Moving all the time is no longer necessary, and they've been staying in Lyon for a couple of months. They've got a cute little house with roses growing in the garden, overlooked by the kitchen in which Grant attempts to teach Skye how to make something other than chocolate chip cookies.

Normally, he fails.

During the day, he's got a job at an accountancy firm and she's on the reception at an international school. They go for lunch together at a cafe where they're considered regulars. In the evening, Grant teaches her French, they train in the back room, and Skye plays on her new laptop or beats his ass at boardgames.

And it's _nice_. A kind of domesticity she's never experienced before and never expected to enjoy.

But strangely (or maybe, not strangely), she's never been happier.

Not that she doesn't miss the Bus. Or at least, everyone on the Bus. (She's not sure she could miss her tiny bunk when she currently sleeps in a big double bed with Grant.) But Natasha reports that Coulson is heading to the Triskelion in a couple of days to discuss their situation, now that everything's calmed down.

After that, Nat goes radio silent. It isn't unusual, if she goes away on a mission, but Skye always finds herself a little on edge, waiting for a picture of Thor holding an ice cream or Captain America in a onesie, because it means everything is okay.

Grant finds her staring at the phone in the kitchen when he gets home from work. 'You okay?' he asks.

He's getting the ingredients for brownies out before she can even answer. (He always knows what she needs, and right now, what she needs it a distraction.)

Brownies are one of the few things she _can_ get the hang of. He says that her sweet tooth makes it impossible for her to bake anything sensible (she sticks her tongue out to that, and comes back with something clever and witty, like 'whatever').

She's stirs brownie mix with one hand and holds the bowl with the other. She's got hair falling out of a bun and her tongue is poking out between her teeth in concentration, and honestly, she's pretty sure she looks like a total idiot.

She sees him still across the room. She lifts her head and blows hair out of her eyes with a puff of breath.

He's looking at her like she fell from the sky.

(The irony is that she probably did, but that's not the point.)

Three years, and it still scares her a little, that he can love her so much.

'What is it?' she asks.

He shakes his head, a smile growing across his face. 'It's just… you,' he says, taking a few steps forward until his hands are circling round her forearms, and she sets down the bowl on the counter, letting him tug her close.

'Me?' she repeats, raising an eyebrow in question.

He doesn't reply, just pulls her in and kisses her, leaving her breathless.

When he draws away, he looks determined, not dazed like she's sure she must.

'What?' she breathes.

'Would you marry me?' he asks.

'What?' she repeats, and she can feel herself suddenly being pulled back to her senses.

He looks suddenly uncertain. 'Sorry,' he says. 'Maybe it hasn't been long enough. And I don't have a ring. But I -'

Skye breaks into grin and cuts him off with a kiss.

'Yes,' she says. 'I'll marry you, dumbass.' She feels a little giddy, like she can't quite believe everything could be this _perfect_.

She jumps up onto the counter to give her a better vantage from which to kiss him again, with one hand on the back of his neck and her legs round his waist. He's got an arm round her, holding her to him, and his other hand is in her hair.

It's moments like these when she's glad she had to run away with him.

 

\- - - - -

 

They go ring shopping the next afternoon, and Skye picks out a little cluster of diamonds that she's going to have to hack several bank accounts to be able to afford.

(But fuck it, she didn't get nice things for most of her life. She will damn well overcompensate.)

She'd missed the team before, but now she can't _wait_ to see them again and tell them the news.

She can just imagine Coulson turning into an overprotective dad. And Jemma will want to plan the whole thing meticulously.

The evening is dinner, training, board games. The usual.

And then.

And then it all shatters.

And then Skye turns on the TV.

On the screen she sees D.C. in chaos, she sees the Triskelion turned to rubble, she sees destruction.

Grant is there, behind her, and his face is dark.

He swears under his breath.

'I have to make a call,' he says.

He swipes the phone from the table and leaves the room.

Skye sinks to the floor, staring at the TV screen, and waits. He's gone half an hour, and she can hear him shouting at whoever is on the other end of the line.

When he returns, he looks pale, visibly shaken.

'What did Natasha say?' she asks.

He sits down beside her. 'I couldn't get through to her.'

'Coulson?' Skye tries, but Grant shakes his head. 'Who was it?' she asks, frowning.

His expression holds a sad sort of weight she hasn't seen in a long time. Not since the last time they talked about life before the Bus.

(He's opened up slowly, over the last three years. Bled her the details of his childhood, of his time in the woods and under the command of Agent Garrett. She knows the monster Garrett is, even if he won't say it outright.

She thinks he might see it now, too, though.

In return, she's told him all she knows about herself, what little she has. Everything from the orphanages and foster families she was moved between to the little things that didn't make sense, but she now attributes to being an 0-8-4.)

'What's wrong?' she asks, when he doesn't answer.

'There's something I didn't tell you,' he says. She can hear the hesitance in his voice, and he threads his fingers carefully through hers, like he's scared she's going to jump away. She gives his hand a reassuring squeeze and waits.

'This,' he says slowly, pointing at the the TV. 'They've said it's Hydra?'

She nods in confirmation. 'An organisation working within Shield to bring it down,' she says - it had practically been page one of Shield's handbook.

Grant closes his eyes, like he's in physical pain. 'Agent Garrett recruited me,' he says.

Skye feels her stomach drop. 'To Shield, you mean?' she asks, hoping desperately.

'To Hydra.' He won't look at her. She can feel the tension in him - he's just waiting for her disgust, but when she doesn't move, he goes on. 'We were never true believers,' he says. 'Garrett was dying, and he say it as an opportunity to find a cure. And to find power. And I...'

He pauses. She sees him glance at her, and she nods him on.

'I followed him. Because I owe him. I owed him,' he corrects himself. 'I thought I owed him. He put me on the Bus to watch Coulson and find out how he came back from the dead.'

Skye stares at their hands, unable to bring herself to move. 'But you're not on the Bus,' she says slowly. 'You're here. With me.'

'He was the Clairvoyant, Skye,' Grant says. 'He was the Clairvoyant. He had you shot. I'm so sorry. But even back then, I promise, I couldn't bear the thought of losing you. I cared about you too much.'

She doesn't know what to do. She feels… numb. Maybe it's shock. And she feels like she should hate him, but his story adds up. It makes sense.

'I'm out now, Skye,' he says. 'I swear. I was on the phone to him, and I told him. I'm done.'

She looks up, and he meets her eyes. 'How do I know I can trust you?' she asks.

'Because you _know_ me,' he says. 'Like I told you three years ago. I made mistake. I did terrible things. But I'm done with it now. I want to make it right.'

Skye frowns. 'Make it right?' she repeats.

'We need to contact Coulson. Garrett would never share many of Hydra's secrets with me, but I have to tell them what I can,' he says, picking up the phone again and dialling. 'I'm sorry, Skye,' he says, kissing her forehead.

She nods slowly and lets him, because honestly, she's okay. She _does_ know him. And she believes him.

Three hours later, the Bus lands at the airport where Skye and Grant are waiting for it. He's holding onto her hand like he never wants to let go. And she's confused as hell and tired and feeling a little like the world just dropped out from under her feet, but she's not sure she wants him to.

The cargo ramp opens and their old teammates descend, looking nothing less than exhausted.

And their engagement has slipped a little in terms of priorities.


End file.
